“The trail died,” I muttered as I reached the dry shelf of rock where prints went to nothing. I crouched anyway and tested the air. The wind slid cold over my tongue and carried nothing I could use.
He doubled back. Or he wanted me to think he did.
“I am not wasting more time,” I said as I stood. But as I turned, something shifted. The air felt suddenly colder, and the smell made me frown. The faster I moved back toward the cabin, the louder Ace pressed.
“Left. Catch it. Two scents. Fresh,”
“I have them,” I breathed as it hit me. One scent is clean cedar and iron discipline. The other, colder, and was coated in something I did not like. Both male and they were close. “Not rogues,” I said. The hairs along my arms lifted. Pack. But who? Had they come for Liora? I slowed at the last bend
